Moments of Radiance
by Acerbitas
Summary: There had been moments of radiance, moments where their star had shined greater than all the others in the heavens. AlxWinry


For the fma fuh q community challenge on livejournal.

**Moments of Radiance**

Winry always looked so lonely when she stood by the roadside, staring off towards the east as if she was expecting a guest. One time she stood there for almost an hour, dress blowing mournfully in the harsh wind. Al was always afraid to approach her, because the one time he had stepped close, she had turned and her eyes had been full of tears. Then she had looked away, as if he hadn't even been there.

When she would come back inside, she would look cold and shaky, but for some reason, full of smiles. She'd always want to twist his hair into a braid, laughing merrily at his bemused protests. "But it looks so pretty, Al," she would tell him, "you look so handsome like that."

And only because she thought so, he kept it in, although it felt odd not to feel a messy ponytail flopping behind him. "You really think so?" he asked her one day, fingering the looped hair awkwardly. "You really think that I look good like this?"

"Oh yes," she had insisted, "Ed always wore his hair like that too." With an off-key song, she had begun to wash the dishes. Al wasn't sure what to think about this, so he had stared into the mirror awhile, trying to figure out if Ed's look was right for him, as well.

When he had pulled it out he had tried to tell her he thought he looked better before she had braided it, but she didn't seem to understand. Feeling horribly guilty, he had attempted to braid it back together, wincing at the strands that had escaped his clumsy fingers. She had been more than happy to assist him.

"Winry," Al whispered one day while they were returning home from a town meeting, "did you like my brother?" He watched her nervously, anxiety clogging his chest as she stiffened. "I—I don't mean to be rude…" It was strange, coming into their world after so much had happened. It was like he had returned from the dead, and nothing anybody did seemed to lessen that feeling.

"He was a great friend, and I miss him," she said, her voice soft. "I miss him very much."

"Oh." They walked for awhile in silence, the sunset making their shadows stretch across the grass, inhumanly tall. Crickets chirped, and the wet grass made soft squishing noises underneath their feet. Al liked to believe that where Ed was the same sounds filled his ears, and that he, too, was walking with a young girl beside him. "I wish I could remember."

She looked up with a blossoming smile on her face, eyes scanning the dusky sky. "I wish you could too." In a sudden movement she clutched his arm, sweaty fingers easing into his own. "Look." She pointed, leading his eyes towards a dim point of light. "Wish on that star."

With a jumpy heart he closed his hand, blushing as his elbows rubbed against her side. "But that's silly, Winry," he told her earnestly, "nothing will happen." His chest was bursting with nervous energy, and he didn't know what to do with it. Shrugging a couple times, he turned away for a hesitant moment but couldn't help turning back towards her face.

"How do you know that?" She punched him playfully, and, shy, he swerved away.

Al's teeth tugged at his lip, and he could feel his hands becoming sweaty as she pressed herself closer to him. "Because it's not logical," he began, a tingling sensation racing up his arm.

Winry paused only a second before sweeping around him, taking his other hand in his. Her girlish giggles of laughter were somehow contagious, and he chuckled back timidly. "Come on," she insisted, her hair glowing with the last streams of sunlight. "It won't hurt." She began to spin, and he followed, their dizzy laughter growing louder and more confident with every step.

"Okay, okay!" he bubbled, feeling ready to do the stupidest thing if it would make her happy. "I wish I could remember. I wish I could remember!" Stumbling, he made a few awkward steps backwards, head light. Though his legs nearly tied together, he felt like he was floating.

"Oh, oh, I almost tripped!" Winry gasped, clutching her stomach. The night was closing in on their spontaneous little party, and a crescent moon climbed into the sky. The grass was shining in the moonlight.

He reached for her arm to steady her, and the tingling feeling returned, lacing his fingers with energy. "Don't fall!" Her head momentarily pressed into his chest before she regained her footing, and he almost rested a hand on her back. Instead, it hovered over her, trembling and unsure.

"I've—got it—" She grasped his hand with confidence this time, leading him along their route like he didn't know where he was going and they were in a terrible hurry. Her sandals clicked rapidly against the moist earth.

He didn't mind, though, because he felt the same exhilaration, the same desire for speed. Soon they were running, and his red coat flew behind him like a banner flapping in the wind.

The next day he woke up, for a moment confused, the next, overjoyed. He flung his sheets off and dressed in a rush, hand barely feeling the banister beneath it as he pounded down the stairs. But when he went into the kitchen, there was nobody there, and he was unable to find her until he looked out the door. There she was, at the roadside, her hair limp and feet bare, shoulders hunched against the storm.

He sloshed through the puddles and the mud, untying his cloak and settling it over her shoulders. "Let's go back inside, Winry. You're going to get sick if you keep standing out here. I don't think you should…be…" He trailed off.

The cloak slipped from her shoulders as she held it to her chest, shaking fingers clutching the fabric like it was a lifeline. "I always wait for him, and he always takes so long to come back! I knew he would though, I knew it. But now I don't even know if he's coming back, but he should, he must…" The cloak's tail was soaked with rainwater and mud, but Winry didn't notice as it smeared her sodden dress. "…because he'd go anywhere for you."

With alarm that increased to pain as he noticed her chattering teeth and blue fingernails, he begged her to come into the house. She allowed him to assist her back inside, not seeming to notice his clumsy touches and bumbling feet.

The days got longer and the heat got more intense, but the pining looks and the sadness that lay behind her eyes did not seem to fade. There were moments of cheer, moments where he thought everything was going to be alright. Moments where he felt like he could fly.

But then there was the inevitable crash, always there was a crash, and he began to wonder if there was something bad about him, something that made him unlikable and strange.

"I'll find him," he insisted desperately one evening, fervor clear in his raised voice. "I'll find him! I need to see my brother again, just like you do. Someday—we'll—"

"…He really loved you, you know," she whispered sadly, fingering her mug but not seeming to really notice it was there. "Everything he did was for you. Every step he thought of you. Every breath was about you." Her feet scrapped under her chair, toes taunt against the wood. She tugged the mug towards her so fast that the tea leapt up in a wave. "And now all you want to do is bring him back." He couldn't tell what her tone was, part fondness, part jealously; all the formless emotions inside of her seemed packed into that single sentence.

"I…" He could not speak, and for a moment he stood dumb, unable to breathe. "But Winry, I—I really like you too…" The rush of heat to his face and his ears and the shuffling of his feet did nothing but increase the self-consciousness growing inside of him. "I mean to say…" He shoved his hands into his pockets, body rigid.

"I know…" she could barely be heard. "And I like you too, Al. But if he comes back, you two will run off together, and I'll be left all alone."

He didn't know what to say, because it was true, and after a long silence he crept outside and stood in the garden. The flowers didn't seem to have much color anymore. Still, he gathered a few, collecting them into a messy bouquet. He wished it looked better, and when he laid it by her hunched form at the table, it looked like something out of place and ugly.

The heavy basket of potatoes slammed against his leg as he lugged it up the hill. His labored breath sent pain shooting up through his heart, but still a cheery smile lit up his face. "Winry," he called, "Winry, I have the potatoes!"

After a moment she appeared in the doorframe, her neat apron wrapped around her thin waist. "Oh good! If you're hungry, I cooked the beans and the beef. You took awhile."

"Thank you!" He waved hastily before his other arm plummeted towards the ground under the weight. The woman coming out to greet the man coming in from working outside, the cheerful lights beckoning him and the smell of food cooking. Al felt like he was coming home, to something that he had wanted his whole life, and from what he could remember, something he had always expected. But there was a nagging feeling in the depths of his heart, telling him this was not something that at one time he had ever thought he could have. It almost brought tears to his eyes.

She helped him lug the basket inside and set it on the table, but turned on him with a fierce frown. "You left your alchemy notes out all over the floor! You shouldn't do that Al. It makes everything messy and I had no idea if I was stacking them in the right order. It's your fault if they're wrong!"

But her glare softened as he tensed, eyes scanning the floor rapidly. "I'm sorry...I won't—"

"Do it again. I know." Her hands pushed his messy hair out of his eyes, and as he looked up he noted with amusement that her arms were covered in black streaks of oil.

"You should wash your arms, they're so dirty! You shouldn't be all dirty at the table. Where's Wrath?"

She shrugged, wiping her hands against her apron. "He ran off again."

"Oh." Al winced, and again that feeling that he was doing something wrong filled his chest, stronger this time, and more poignant.

Not looking too concerned, she turned from him and grasped her bowl of beans. He watched her spoon quite a large amount on his plate, and with that he knew she was proud of her supper tonight. "He'll come back." With a sharp thud of wood she sat herself down at the table. Without waiting or washing her arms she began to eat with great vigor. Not ladylike, or gentle. She tapped her foot loudly against the floor, but for some reason, that made her all the more beautiful.

"I think we should give him a real name," he said, not sitting down but rather staring out the window. "How do you know he'll come home? How do you know it when Ed isn't coming home either?"

She paused, motioning for him to sit down. "Because, Al, you're here. Just like Ed will, he'll just come walking in the door."

For some reason, her words didn't help. "He didn't seem to like me at first…" Al slipped into his chair, moving his fork to his lips just to make her happy. His stomach was churning, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and pain. "Did I do something wrong?"

She didn't say anything, and the food was tasteless on his tongue.

"Al?" Winry whispered, putting a hand against his slumbering shoulder. As he looked up from his desk and blinked at her sleepily, she gave him a shy smile. "Al, I know you're leaving soon…I…I just wanted to talk to you before you left."

Slipping his hand over her familiar rough fingers, he forced himself to stand, not caring as he crumpled some papers in his rush. His exhausted haze made it hard for him to focus on her properly, but he knew he had to. He wasn't sure when he was going to see her again. "Hey," he managed, moving the hand up her arm with care, like she was a princess instead of a dirty mechanic. He liked dirty mechanics better.

"Hey." Her face was miserable. With a sudden motion she grasped his shirt, pressing her body against his and burying her face in his chest. "…I hope you find him."

"…Me too." Her shoulders were shaking slightly, and he was lost on what to for her. This contact wasn't strange, but he felt totally useless as he held her gently against his body. The shaking wouldn't stop, and the tears wouldn't stop fading into his shirt. "It…it's okay!" It came out as some kind of plea. "Winry—I'll come back, and I'll bring him back too. Okay? It's going to be okay." But he had no idea if it actually was going to be okay, and with a sinking feeling he realized he might as well be lying to her.

"Don't go for a little bit. Stay a bit. Just a little while." She seemed to calm down a bit as his hold tightened, and he pressed his head against her bare shoulder, breathing in oil and the sharp smell of burning fuel. He couldn't get enough of it, and when he finally forced himself away, he realized that he hadn't spent enough time around her.

He had always been studying, and she had always crept around inside the doorway, afraid to come in. With a pained smile he remembered all the snacks she would make for him, snacks he knew were just excuses to go see him. But he didn't mind. He was always dying for them, even if he wasn't hungry, because he was really waiting for her. "No…of course."

Tears shivered on her eyelashes, like beaded drops of dew. He felt himself drawn to her lips, and she moved upwards to meet him. Fear and exhilaration pounded in his chest, filling his mind up so he couldn't quite think about how everything was going to change in just a few hours.

Her lips were parched, but the dry feeling was mingled with the salt. He could feel his chest heaving, and he was afraid he was breathing too hard. She moved away and he felt a second of sharp pain—this was goodbye—before he felt her lips against his again, now moist and soft.

With a choked giggle she moved her tongue into his mouth, and he tried to move his own to match hers. He forced back a chuckle because it felt so strange, and not like the way such things were supposed to feel. They're bodies were tight against each other, and with a bit of alarm he realized her tube top was slipping off of her. Oh, my God.

"Oh—oh…" he managed before he was engulfed again, and unable to help himself he felt his hands move lower down her back. His pants were feeling a bit too tight, and the erection he tried to ignore seemed only to grow more pleading and painful. He didn't want to hurt her! He didn't want to make her goodbyes any worse.

But she was directing him towards his bed, drawn by the same excitement that seemed to be building up like a dangerous explosive in his chest. He tried to be courteous about how she got on the bed, tried to lead her in some kind of gentlemanly way. The fatigue was wearing off and he was beginning to feel increasing panic. Winry Rockbell was on his bed, and she pulling him on top of her. Winry Rockbell was on his bed— He tried to repeat it to himself, but somehow this did not make it any more real.

His hands were burning up, but for some reason they couldn't move, like they were frozen. Oh hell! He forced them to fumble over his cloak, because he wasn't quite sure what else to do.

"Leave it on." Winry almost instructed, blush creeping out from under her drying tears. Her skirt slipped from her hips, and he found himself staring with growing embarrassment as she opened her legs. But then she turned away from him, digging her fingernails into the soft sheets of the bed and biting harshly on her lip. She looked like she was about to burst into tears all over again when she knit herself around his neck. Slight pain cut into his back as she dug her fingertips into him, a single sob sending a jolt through her somehow feeble form.

"It—it's okay…" Al tried to comfort her helplessly, having trouble unbuttoning his pants with just one hand. The button kept sliding over his thumb and he wiggled with discomfiture. Finally after his ears grew embarrassingly red he was able to rescue his member from its prison.

Her legs slid around his sides, but he couldn't see her face because she was hiding it behind her hair and his neck. He was terrified now, panicked, affections racing from his heart and down into his groin.

"I—I don't know what I'm doing…" he muttered desperately, feeling somehow like a terrible violator as he moved a shaky hand towards her opening. "Don't…don't…I don't want to hurt you!"

Another sob wracked her, and his heart was pounding against his ribcage. "You're not going to hurt me." Her voice could barely be heard. "You're not hurting anybody."

Unable to speak he moved his finger inside of her, wincing when she let out a moan that was a cross between pleasure and pain. He swallowed even though his throat was parched, nearly gagging him. "It's fine," he mumbled, helpless. His erection was bobbing impatiently, and he could not help himself any longer. The rush of pleasure leaping across his stomach as he entered her forced away the aching thoughts in his head. He felt impossibly relieved.

His hips rocking against her shivering body, he tried to whisper comforting words, words of affection and warmth. But the only thing that came out was a dry panting, and he shut his eyes, pretending that everything was okay. He didn't know what was wrong. There was something that was off about this, something much more than it being simply a goodbye.

She moaned underneath him, and he could feel himself peaking, the ecstasy coursing through his body. A single cry from her, a deep moan from him, and they tumbled onto each other, his seed still dripping out of him and onto the sheets.

The pillow felt cool underneath his burning face, and he wrapped her in his arms just because that was what one was supposed to do. His pants were almost off, and he didn't know what to do about that problem. Winry hiked her skirt back up her hips and leaned close to him, her face splotched with red.

A wave of guilt crashed on top of him, a sickly feeling creeping into his gut and changing pleasure to nausea. "I—I didn't want to hurt you, Winry! I'm sorry… I—I really—like you a lot and…and…" He nuzzled his face into her hair hopefully, breathing in her rather bland shampoo.

"No, no!" She squirmed out of his arms and stumbled out of the bed, shaking her head and shuddering. "Please stop…" The door flew open as she stumbled out, her foot nearly smashing against the doorframe.

"Winry! I'm…I'm sorry!" No… What…had he done wrong? He must be an awful person, making everybody worry and causing them pain. His own body began to shake as he half-heartedly pulled his pants up, buttoning them without really feeling the fabric underneath his fingers. He'd go, now, and leave her alone. He wouldn't be able to hurt her, hurt anybody, if he was out alone, wandering from place to place.

The sweat sticking to his skin was getting cold and making him shiver. He forced himself to sit up, blinking wearily and attempting to force away the pain. "I'm sorry…" he whispered to her, even though she couldn't hear, "I'm really sorry…" He should have never lost his control like that. He should have told her he wasn't going to ruin her, and that she should find somebody special, much better than him. But no, he had been selfish, and now he deserved it if she hated him.

Rubbing his eyes with a stiff determination, he peaked timidly out the bedroom door. With a start he realized Wrath was sitting on the stairs, eyes looking dulled and bloodshot. He stared at Al, deep purple orbs digging a hole inside Al's chest. Al jumped and looked away, but knew with a gutted feeling that he was still being haunted by the homunculus' gaze.

Looking through the window, he felt shame wash over him at the sight of Winry sitting alone on the porch. Her legs were dangling weakly, and in her lap lay some of the same type of flowers he always liked the pick for her.

"Winry…I'm sorry…" he stepped through the doorway, hand held out to her like she was a savior, an angel, and he was begging for forgiveness.

"Stop it!" she nearly screamed, waving away his hand and pushing her palms into her messy hair. "Stop saying your sorry!"

He froze, dumbfounded.

"It's not your fault! You always think everything is your fault when it's not!" Her back arched and she buried her head low, shaking it helplessly. "'If I had stopped nii-san, if I had done more, if I had— No, Al, no!

"Please…I like you, Al, and you're so sweet to me. I like being with you and sometimes it feels like I'm falling in love with you. But half the time I am…I was…thinking about Ed. You're in his cloak…his hair… I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" She finally gave into her tears, sobbing freely and brokenly. She hugged her knees, rubbing her nose against her shirt.

He was unable to feel the wood underneath his feet as he plodded to her side. He sat down, feeling out of place. The world was going on without him and he was frozen in time, too shocked to keep on going. His chest felt hollow and painful, like his stomach when he hadn't had anything to eat for several days. "It's okay…" he managed, the distance between them seeming to stretch for miles across the cold floorboards. "It's okay." It was okay because it had to be okay, and because there was nothing he could do about it. She couldn't help it if the truth made him feel empty and lost inside. "I still like you Winry. It's okay."

Through tearful vision she eyed him, reaching out to touch him on tenderly on the hand. "And that's why he loved you, Al. He loved you so very much." She rested her head on his shoulder, flowers shifting in her lap. "And that's why I love you too."

"I'll find him for us," he told her, sounding tired but resolute. "I'll find him, and bring him back home."

"Okay, but come back." Her voice was barely audible. "Please come back. Please don't run off and leave me alone all over again."

He didn't say anything. Looking up at the sky, he leaned back against her and examined the brilliant constellations. Only small points of light, not seeming important in the grand scheme of things. He felt like their little world was one of those lights, but it was growing dimmer, dimmer, and it was about to fade out. There had been moments of radiance, moments where their star had shined greater than all the others in the heavens.

Those were the ones he would remember, he thought, while out in the desert at night, curled up underneath the glow of a thousand stars.


End file.
